affinity
by runickenaz
Summary: Donned in yellow and jade, a dragon's faith is lured into a curious red vapor.
1. affinity

**So, the game isn't out yet. But I have this idea with the suspicious cast member Yinglong and (implied) black-hair foxy lady. I also have this uploaded on my dArt account, thought I'd upload it here too.**

* * *

None of us are born with the knowledge on how we should live for the better or the worse. For Yinglong, it was a given. Pious to a fault, it was obvious. A dragon, so high and mighty, humbled himself to a mere beggar's Law and Teachings. In truth, he does not remember how that came to be. It happened. As a Mystic, he complies. Readily for his superiors, for his subordinates, for the sake of protecting all he secured for a happy life, the dragon armored himself their strongest shield. Yinglong's source of strength was from his practiced faith by the holy words his ears were blessed to hear. It befell nothing to little else what surge so mighty his power. Following in unshakable beliefs, his knuckles whiten his grip on his twin dragon swords, its purest green hue aura, fell no questions to his allies' standing.

Yet, he, despite the form he has taken, the human likeness, the blessed template that encased his soul, naturally confined him. He was a domesticated dragon in human shape. Only his verdant reptilian irises show his true nature. Often brooding, he would disappear in pity if his heart was tremendously moved. Very much a human trait.

Stood bold in encrusted yellow and brilliant jade, his faith delivered him no harm to the cold shudder of untimely approach for all living things. Unblemished, sound in the Righteous Law, Yinglong held his conviction in heart, mind, and sword. Today, the other Mystics entrusted his leadership.

He abandoned their orders.

Assurance tightened again onto paired hilts, one in each hand. Gliding through the bloody fog, he ventured deeper into the vapor.

_"What could be the source of this power?"_

It struck profound, away his usual comfort thought, heightening curious danger with each step. Yinglong could not wait, a smile bold on his lips. His heart raced. He wanted to run. It was almost calling out to him.

Horrid is Death's stench, fresh blood on sharpened fingertips. Dust dyed in red caked the ground, same colored clouds pillared, upon another like rising steam, from unfortunate cadavers. Insect husks littered. Skulls weaved, scattered around his heavy scuffle as the bone fragments clattered an echo hymn, belated their dirge. Reddish vapor thickened its fog. A lethal wind sullied a caution passed the Law's champion.

"Holy fools claim compassion only to alter kindness as death foretell them." Yinglong need not fear the vox of nobility. Refine as it maybe, it stitched feminine silk rippled in poison. His eyes narrowed. The profane encroached an icy embrace. In ease, he fanned it off. "Opportunistic ways betray principled men. Any beyond yonder, may your presence be warned."

* * *

Author's Note: Some of you are wondering about what the hell I'm referring to when I speak of "Law and Teachings", along "Righteous Law". Let's just say it's too much to say here. If you're interested about it, note me. Let me add, that these things are subtle in the JPN version as well.


	2. ease

"I wish to see Priestess Sanzang." The guards nodded, and hollered to the door. A muffled female voice, high-pitched like a twittering cheer, allowed permission. "Thank you." The double doors shut behind Yinglong. The boom cued a slender woman, robed in spring green, adjacent to the entrance to turn around. Upon seeing her visitor, she smiled brightly.

The priestess took a sip from her teacup before asking if her visitor slept well.

Countless brief naps at times disturbed, nothing too serious to confess. "Been occupied, keeping things in order." It was untiring routine, a weakness in compliance. Yinglong instantly lowered his chin. His eyes closed if deep in trance. "I had that dream again."

Priestess Sanzang remembered details in their previous session.

"It worries me. I keep myself occupied away from that nightmare."

His little lie filled her anger. "You know better. Don't avoid sleep." Yinglong whirled no counter in return. She continued a light scold when he turned away, half surprised seeing her change attitude in haste. "We maybe Mystics, but our bodies, too, need sufficient rest."

His apology mumbled.

No need to worsen worries for concern softens temper. "Please, sit down." She lead him to his seat. He sat. "Did the usual things happened?"

Yinglong's chest heaved beneath his blue robe, taking the time for his listener to settle before answering: "Yes. Among other things. I was in my armor again." He began, confessing a blameless guilt, his words weaved intricate threads an awful mind product that blanketed in his waking moment alone. "So much blood, suffering. Too much." He muttered, his palm covered his mouth as if this shock offended his listener. "The fog, that voice. This time I ran."

Silence held the room, the confessor heaved.

"The voice was getting louder, nearer, not a care or wonder, I ran. Then..." Brow scrunched, fangs bared, a vein rose from his fist. "Nowhere."

The priestess blinked, repeated his last word.

"It does not matter how it began." The same scrunched brow stayed, his slit irises held the priestess' gaze. "I was lost." The shield began to shatter. He opened himself, tensed, combing his fingers through his matted navy hair.

Sanzang looked out the open window. The sun peeked behind the hills.

"Light shines. Brightens even over the grayest skies. Sadness dictates your heart, because a desire to comprehend..." Her legs lifted to a stand, she stepped near a beam that entered into the room. "Your worry will come to pass, when all becomes order again."

A hand placed over his hefty heart, Yinglong hung his head in half a respected bow. "I trust your words, Priestess."

Whenever Sanzang was concerned for him, it made Yinglong less a beast. No matter how learned you are in knowledge, and convincing in logic, it is not a substitute for faith.

In his human-likeness, Yinglong acquired learned intellect from which he vowed to guard long ago. He studied much these sutras, alongside the priestess, his personal chaplain, for ages. He learned how to treat others well, show respect, aid the needy. Most importantly, knowing what is suffering, and how to end it. The story goes into the life of a mortal prince. In his pity and the want to comprehend, he threw away his luxury, his family, for humanity. This greatly reminded the dragon a mortal he once served after the Deluge. Alas, both were earthly, for grief weighted heavy when came their passing from the Human Realm. Yet their kingly feats and words remain as bold lessons for future generations to better humanity.

Sometimes, words are not enough alone.

There was force.

Grudges fueled the flame of war. The fire spreads. Tears lovers apart. Chaos ensured. Order must be done.

For Yinglong, Order was the very fiber of his draconic being. Belted great kindness, this dragon was a decorated militant arm in his mighty appearance. Ironically, much fighting for order was done externally. Shields can only protect for so long.

In time, a shield dented, becomes vulnerable, eventually shattered by the next thunderous blow. Fortunately, meetings dated the dragon in tempered care that forged anew conviction. His commitment remained internal, reinforced by amicable visits with the Priestess Sanzang. Days ago, he had done small errands for her. Warm smiles greeted upon his finished duty. He too was happy. His heart was happy.

"I could not see anything. Deep in dread, I awoke." His paths unclear, a thought lead to only one. "I feared the worse." Yinglong's Vow stripped him from a peaceful death until all is in Order. Sensing a presence, Yinglong looked up, a silent warmth lamented him, chipping his shield with ease. "Help me, Priestess." Knit fingers searched, then locked together. "Save me."

* * *

A dragon can shield himself for so long... Those hugs come in handy. Who else would be there for him in a spiritual way?


End file.
